


Lovely Mirage

by SilverLinings



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M, PTSD trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 16:24:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3388379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverLinings/pseuds/SilverLinings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Healing starts with hug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lovely Mirage

**Author's Note:**

> Also some spoilers for the end of The Death Cure

Minho and Newt sat on the edge of the cliff together, hand in hand. It was hard, everyone was struggling, but they had found each other. In Minho’s darkest time he went to Newt, begging him for help, for someone to comfort him and Newt did what he would have done long ago if Minho had ever asked. He wrapped his arms around Minho tenderly and rubbed his back while Minho sobbed. It was messy and painful and both of them cried, many times, but in the end, they both felt better. After that it only made sense for them to be together. They were each others rock, their solace.

 

Newt leaned his head against Minho’s shoulder, whispering about how much he loved Minho, how he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Minho.

 

It was a strange sensation. Minho knew Newt was there, could hear him talking but it was muffled. It was like Minho was listening to Newt speak through a layer of glass. It was distorted and hard to make the words out. Minho passed it off as post-damage from the explosions.

 

***

 

Later that day Minho was glad to hear that his hearing had come back. He would have bounded off and told Newt but Newt had gone out to hunt with some of the other gladers, Minho opted for telling Thomas.

 

“My hearing, it cleared up!” Minho yelled excitedly, smiling proudly at Thomas. Thomas only looked back at him with a confused expression on his face.

 

“I didn’t know it was ever gone to start?” Minho nodded.

 

“Maybe I didn’t tell you, I told Newt though, that the explosions were messing with my hearing.”

 

Thomas nodded his head and smiled at Minho but it wasn’t sincere. Minho saw blatantly the pain in Thomas’s eyes, the tension in his face. Minho wasn’t sure what the cause of it was, why Thomas wasn’t happy for him.

 

Minho passed it off as some sort of PTSD from when he referred to the explosions.

 

***

 

Minho laid in his too small bed with Newt at his side, curled around him and their hands interlocked. They were both happier when they were together, touching, touching always. Hands locked together, legs tangled between the two, chest to chest, and foreheads pressing together. It was the only way Minho could feel safe, to know that his best friend, his lover, was there at his side.

 

It was the only feeling that Minho could remember making him feel so happy about, like he was on cloud nine and higher than the clouds.   
  
“I love you,” Minho whispered, grinning widely.

 

Thomas walked in then, both Newt and Minho turning to look. Thomas looked seriously disturbed, to the point where he looked uncomfortable, sad, concerned. It was a strange mix of emotions that clouded his face. Minho would have thought that his best friend would be happy for his new relationship.

 

Maybe Thomas was still bitter over Teresa’s death.

 

***

 

Minho went adventuring, dragging Newt along with him, the two of them laughing wildly as they tripped through the forest. It was the most fun they’d had in a long time and finally, finally, they were able to be together without odd looks from Thomas and the rest of the gladers.

 

“What do you think their deal is?” Minho asked quietly, his mood suddenly turning sour. Newt cocked his head in confusion, looking at him.

 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Newt stated, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

 

“It’s just, I don’t know if they disapprove of us or there’s something else. Thomas, the other gladers, they always give us weird looks when we’re together, I don’t know what it’s about.” Minho could feel himself working into a panic. He tried to tell himself that realistically it was nothing, there was nothing, but he couldn’t shake this feeling that everyone else was seeing something different than he.

 

“Maybe they’re just concerned about me since my limp has gotten worse, that has to be it.” Minho nodded.

 

“When we get back you should rest that leg.”

 

***

 

Thomas stood at the edge of the forest, awaiting their return. Minho clutched tighter to Newt’s hand, not quite sure if he was ready for the confrontation that was bound to happen.

 

“Minho, we really need to talk to you,” Thomas said, gesturing behind him to the other remaining gladers. They all looked saddened, some of the ones who’d come from Minho’s group had tears in the eyes, the girls all looking scared, uncomfortable, something that Minho didn’t think was quite necessary, or maybe it was, that may have been what worried him most.

 

“Yeah, sure, can Newt tag along?” He asked, looking over to Newt and nodding at the reassuring smile Newt flashed him.

 

There was a pause from Thomas, far too long for it to have been anything but a problem.

 

“Sure,” Thomas stated, the word coming out strangled and broken. It reminded Minho of the glass over his ears, the same feeling he gets around Newt.

 

***

 

“Have you noticed anything wrong with Newt?” Thomas asked, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his palms together. Thomas was looking everywhere except at Newt and Minho.

 

Minho looked over at Newt, biting his lip momentarily.

 

“No, I mean, his limp has gotten a bit worse. Probably from walking around with me so much. And when he talks. He needs to speak up, can hardly hear the damn shuck.” Minho laughed, nudging Newt with his shoulder. Newt laughed with him.

 

The rest of the room was silent.

 

“What do you mean you can hardly hear him? Can you hear me?” Thomas made eye-contact with Minho at that, the doubt in his eyes suddenly gone only to be replaced with concern. Minho waved his hand dismissively.

 

“Of course I can hear you,” Minho laughed again at how ridiculous the question was.

 

“It’s just around Newt anymore. He talks so damn quiet anymore that it’s like he’s speaking to me through glass.”

 

Thomas looked away again, biting his lip and looking over to Brenda. She nodded her head, whispering to him that he could do it. Minho wasn’t sure what there was to do. Thomas sighed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before looking up into Minho’s again. There was so much sadness there that Minho had to fight the urge to look away.

 

“Have you ever wondered why you can’t hear Newt?” Thomas’s voice was shaky, his eyes starting to go red like he was about to cry. Minho wasn’t sure what to make of this.

 

He looked around at everyone who was sitting around him, all eyes on Minho, none of the people even glancing at Newt. It was about him and Minho hated that. He looked over at Newt, feeling his own eyes well up with tears. Minho felt singled out, alone, he felt broken.

 

“Wh-what are you saying?” Minho asked hesitantly, feeling a tear slip down his cheek. He knew that this was going to end badly.

 

Thomas was crying too, now, his chin wavering slightly before he tried to talk. His voice was thick and cracking.

 

“Minho, Newt died, he - he was infected with the flare, he went crazy and he asked to die.”

 

Minho shook his head, looking over at Newt and then back to Thomas.

 

“You can’t say that, he’s right here with me,” Minho said desperately. He looked around at everyone else, all of them shaking their heads or looking at the ground, a sad look masking the happy smiles that usually took place on everyones face.

 

“Minho, he’s not real.” Thomas was starting to sound desperate, pleading with Minho to get him to understand.

 

The hand holding Minho’s tightened dramatically, demanding MInho’s attention.

 

“You can’t honestly believe this,” Newt said incredulously, “you know I’m real, Minho, who are you going to believe?”

 

Minho pressed his hands tight against his ears, hunching forward and sobbing violently. He was beyond confused, he was scared and upset.   
  


“I can’t understand you, Newt!” He yelled. A couple of people flinched behind Minho, the sound of rustling loud and clear to him. A hand rested on Minho’s back and he shot up, knowing that it was from Newt. Newt there to save the day, to comfort him and bring him out of whatever this spiralling feeling was.

 

But Newt was gone. There was nothing beside him, an empty space that felt cold and lonesome. The hand on his back belonged to Thomas, a boy who sat in front of him with as much pain on his face as Minho felt inside.

 

“Please, Minho, you’ve got to understand.”

 

***

 

Minho sat on the edge of the cliff again. This time though, he was alone.

 

He sat there staring out at the water, the sun shining down on it making it a crystal clear blue. Minho would have loved the sight of it, except for the fact that he couldn’t feel anything besides the ache that never left his bones.

 

He threw pebbles over the edge, watching them fall, fall fall, towards the water.

 

Minho kept waiting for the sound of a splash below him but nothing came.

 

He couldn’t hear a thing.

 

 


End file.
